Ace Combat: Restitution
by The Great and Powerful Keski
Summary: The main character from Ace Combat 4, 5, and Zero questions his identity in the aftermath of the Circum Pacific War, a.k.a. Ace Combat 5. Good drama, and several dogfights.
1. Chapter 1

-1Ace Combat: Restitution

An Ace Combat (fanfic/short story) brought on by

playing Ace Combat 5 and Ace Combat Zero until

six o' clock in the morning for three days in a row

(Written by The Great and Powerful Keski)

- - -

Part One

- - -

_For after all what is man in nature?_

_A nothing in relation to infinity, all in relation to nothing,_

_a central point between nothing and all and_

_infinitely far from understanding either._

- - -

Who am I?

I don't know how to answer that question anymore. I don't really think I have a name, at least not in the way I think you mean. In fact, for years now I've wondered if I am even a veritable human being.

Whatever else I may be, I am a fighter pilot. I've always been a pilot, probably always will be. An amazing pilot at that—you don't understand, though, you can't, what I really mean by 'amazing'.

I've flown under many different monikers—I've been Cipher, Galm One and the Demon Lord of the Round Table; I've been Mobius One, known only by my ruthlessness and my plane's ribbon insignia; I've been a Wardog, and then one of the Demons of Razgriz. Blaze, they called me then.

I've fought Belka, then a World With No Boundaries. I've fought Erusea, then Yuktobania, then Belka again.

I've killed men who didn't know what they were fighting for, and I've killed men who fought for the most respectable causes of all.

I've shot down some of the most expensive planes ever built, and I've destroyed weapons the mind can barely comprehend. I've tasted death in the air, and I have cheated it more times than I can count.

I don't let myself get too attached. To anyone. I've lost too many close friends, partners, comrades. First there was Larry Foulke. "Solo Wing," they called him—He was a good friend. I flew with him on twelve missions, and at the end of the twelfth, he turned on me. I shot him down on New Year's Eve, 1995—just minutes after he killed Patrick—PJ—another friend, another wingman. Years later, in another war, I lost another friend. Alvin… Chopper. He went down with honour, but… I can't help feeling responsible. I was his flight lead.

I have always been the flight lead, and always they die under my wing. I am a bringer of indiscriminate death, to those who fight both with and against me.

And yet, even that is not entirely true. I have brought life to some. There are those who would have died were it not for my aid. Kei Nagase flew with me at the same time as Alvin. She was shot down on November seventeenth, in the last war, and if I had not been there to spearhead the rescue effort, she would not be alive today. And the young one, Grimm—He might have been shot down the moment he got into the air for the first time if I hadn't been fighting for air superiority above him.

But then, none of this is what you wanted to hear, now, is it?

- - -

_"Yo, buddy. Still alive?"_

These words echoed through my consciousness, even though it had been years since I'd last heard them. It was January 3, 2011, just days after the end of the Circum-Pacific War, and I had, for a second time, grown weary of the organized military. I was once again a mercenary, as I'd been in the Belkan War. Perhaps that was why Larry's words came back to me now, after all these years. No longer was I a Wardog, nor a Demon of Razgriz.

Edge—Kei Nagase—had become a mercenary like me in the few days following the destruction of the SOLG, while my other wingmen, Archer and Swordsman had stayed in the Air Force. I hadn't heard from any of them since the mission on New Year's Eve.

That particular day, I was flying over the mountain range that had once been known as B7R. I had no mission, no objective—the plane I flew was my own, an old MiG-29A. I carried no weapons, and I carried no obligations. Wartime was over, after all. Nobody needed my service, and I was reluctant to offer it up after the occurrences of the recent war.

"Blaze." Kei Nagase's voice, over the radio.

"Don't call me Blaze," I said sharply.

"Fine, Razgriz One."

I stiffened and drew my upper lip back in an expression of distaste. "Kei…"

"Well, you never told me your real name."

I sighed and leant my head back. Briefly I checked the radar, but nothing was displayed. "Call me… Cipher."

"Cipher?"

"It's a long story. Maybe someday I'll tell it to you."

"Maybe. Okay, Cipher. Where are you headed?"

"Oblivion," I said, then sighed again. "I don't know. Just waiting for the world to go crazy again, I guess."

"What do you mean?" A quick blip in the lower-right hand corner of the radar caught my attention—It was her. I pulled my plane around to head for it.

"Another war. There's always a war going on. Always. People can't exist without conflict. Something I've learned over the years. Someone is mad at someone else, or someone needs resources, or someone is plotting—There's always something. And I'm always the one to save the world, and I'm just… I'm just so very tired of it all."

I could see her in the distance. I couldn't make out what she was flying, but it wasn't very large. "Getting a bit full of yourself, aren't you?" she said.

"So says you. You don't know what I've done. Where I've been. What I've seen. This last war was only the last of many. And there will be more."

"Blaze—Cipher," she corrected herself, "who are you, really?"

I didn't reply for a few seconds, then I sighed. "You remember that reporter who published a series of interviews about five years ago, about a mercenary pilot who flew in the Belkan War? The Demon Lord of the very same Round Table we are flying above right now…?"

"Yes," she said, "it was interesting to read. Along with the rest of the records of the Belkan War. But what—"

I threw caution to the wind. "I'm the Demon Lord, Kei. I am Galm One. I'm _Cipher._"

Silence. Her plane came closer, closer, and then flashed by above me. She wheeled around and pulled up to fly alongside me. She was flying an F-16C. For an instant, I remembered PJ—he always flew an F-16C—but I suppressed the memories of that long ago war.

"Cipher," she said quietly over the radio, and I knew she wasn't addressing me.

"And I've been around for a lot longer than that," I said.

There was silence again. I don't know what I would have said, if anything, but the instant I opened my mouth, a multitude of new blips appeared as if from nowhere in the northwest corner of my radar. They didn't register on the search screen as enemies, but they were headed fast for us, and they didn't say anything over the radio.

"Damn it," I said viciously. "I told you. Something's happening again. I don't have any weapons, Kei."

"Neither do I. We should head back. Valais?"

"It's closest," I agreed. "That's where I'm staying for now, too."

We both wheeled around to the southeast and pushed the throttle to the maximum. Whatever planes the others were flying, they weren't fast enough to catch us; we never even saw them.

- - -

Valais Air Base was dormant, and it took only a few moments of communication before they authorized the both of us to land. It wasn't long before I found myself climbing down from my plane and handing it off to a nameless mechanic with orders to outfit it with air-to-air weapons. If, as I suspected, those planes were up to something crooked, I intended to hunt them down and shoot them down, one by one. First, though, I had to get in touch with someone who could identify them.

As Colonel Philip Teron, currently at the head of Valais Air Base, told me, the planes were of Belkan origin, objective unknown, but it couldn't be anything good, since they hadn't contacted anyone. I was back in the air within a half an hour of landing.

- - -

"Time to dive into the fireworks," I muttered as the radar blips appeared once again, this time fully registering as enemy planes. The afterburners were on, the SAAMs attached.

It struck me as odd, though, that they hadn't made much progress at all in the time I'd been gone. When we'd spotted them, they'd been at the northern fringe of the Round Table, and by now they'd made it to the centre.

"Yes," was all Kei said.

"Belkan aircraft," I said clearly, "I'm not a military fighter, and I've been given no orders _from_ the military not to shoot you down. If you have a good reason for me not to kill you, you've got about three minutes to verbalize them."

As I'd expected, there was no response.

The planes appeared in the distance. It all happened as if in a dream. I saw everything as if I was not in my own body: There were four planes, and I recognized them all instantly as F-35Cs. The battle was quick and efficient, and we never once heard an enemy's voice over the radio. Kei shot down one of them, I shot down two, and I didn't waste more than three missiles overall. I told Kei to leave the last one to me, and she fell to observing from the middle distance. I was just managing to pull into position behind the fourth plane when the radio buzzed, and I heard:

"Yo, buddy. Still alive, I see."

I froze for but an instant, and he was gone—he pulled up sharply and wheeled around until our positions were reversed, and then he released a single missile. I just barely managed to wrench my plane out of its way.

"Larry!" I said. "What are you doing?"

"Collecting on a debt you've owed for a long time." He sniggered.

"Debt…? Larry, stop this!"

We were flying in circles around each other, neither of us willing to let the other one get a shot lined up. Finally, I angled my nose toward the ground, raced straight toward it, and pulled my plane up into a horizontal path along the mountains just as a missile alert began to blare. I pushed the throttle up to the maximum and raced, dangerously low to the mountains, until the missile alert silenced. I checked my radar—plenty of distance. I pulled up again and headed straight back at him, releasing two missiles as I went. He dodged them easily by pulling up, but as he did that, I got behind him and just concentrated on staying there when he began to execute all manner of evasive manoeuvres.

"We're both aces, with no reason to oppose each other," I said angrily, "and yet you want to fight." Two more missiles, to no avail. I kept trying to line him up better, so that I might try the SAAMs.

"No reason to oppose each other? Mobius One, Cipher, Blaze, whatever you call yourself now—We have _every_ reason to oppose each other. And besides, I'm no ace. You, though…" His plane was jerking up, down, and to each side unpredictably, trying to shake me, but I wouldn't be eluded.

"What are you _talking_ about! You are just the same as every other idiot, convincing yourself that you've found a worthy cause, when really it's pointless, and always has been!"

"Do I hear bitterness?" he said slyly, laughing. I cursed.

"I liked you," I said, "I really did. I flew alongside you and saw your skill. And I flew against you, and saw the same skill. But, Larry, I always liked you. I thought you'd died, and I hated myself for it. But now, after everything that's happened, after everything you must have been through, to think that you _still_ want to fight me!"

"You don't have any idea what is going on, Cipher."

There it was, the perfect shot. I released two SAAMs and struggled to keep him in front of my nose.

A flash, an explosion—

—and his plane was gone.

"Hopefully I'll never need to," I said bitterly. "Kei, let's—"

"Did you think that was _me_?" My stomach knotted. It was him. "Cipher, you know I wouldn't risk it all this early in the game!"

"Larry," I said.

"You don't even know who you are," he said in a low voice. "You don't know who or what you are. You just keep on flying through these skies, watching everything, raining death on everyone that gets in your way."

"I know exactly what I am," I snapped. "I'm a fighter pilot."

"Well, obviously, but that is not what I am talking about."

I'd turned my plane around and was heading back toward Valais. Kei was on my right wing.

"I don't know or care what you're talking about, but if you aren't careful," I said, "if you get in my way, if you attack me… I _will_ kill you."

"Oh, I know you will. Now, run along home, 'Ace'."

And I did.


	2. Chapter 2

-1Ace Combat: Restitution

An Ace Combat (fanfic/short story) brought on by

playing Ace Combat 5 and Ace Combat Zero until

six o' clock in the morning for three days in a row

(Written by The Great and Powerful Keski)

- - -

Part Two

- - -

_Then even nothingness was not, nor existence._

_There was no air then, nor the heavens beyond it._

_What covered it? Where was it? In whose keeping?_

_Was there then cosmic water, in depths unfathomed?_

- - -

"_Buddy… I've found a reason to fight._"

…And again, Larry's words chased me through my own mind. No matter how I tried to get away from them, they kept coming back to me as I sat here, late at night, inside one of two lounge areas at Valais Air Base. Everything he said those fifteen years ago—and everything he'd said yesterday.

"_This is where we go our separate ways._"

_Why_ had he ever gotten involved in A World With No Boundaries? If he'd never thrown his lot in with them, we might still be flying together. Of course, it wasn't as if they'd stolen him against his will.

And the motives of that organization weren't all that malicious, either. They'd been sick and tired of all the conflict, the war, the fighting, the _chaos_ that sprung up from all the lines between countries. They'd thought that if those lines were erased, if the entire world became united under one flag, perhaps…

…Perhaps what? Even if the lines were wiped off of a map, they'd still be there in peoples' minds. North Osea—what we _called_ North Osea—was a prime example of that. During the Belkan War, that land had been captured by Osea, though it used to be Belkan territory. But any local today would still tell you that it was South Belka.

The lines on a map wouldn't change anything. Not for the better, anyway. What A World With No Boundaries didn't understand was that the _lines_ they needed to _erase_ were the _lines in peoples' minds_.

But it did nobody any good to reminisce over the past. Whatever was going on now was new, fresh, and I had to be ready for it.

"Hey, Cipher," Kei said as she came up behind me and set a cup of steaming tea on the table beside my chair. She was holding another cup, and took a sip from it as she took a seat several paces away.

It felt strange for her to be using my old call sign, here on the ground. But what else was there? Even at the time of the Belkan War, I hadn't remembered if I'd ever had a name.

_What was I_? _Would I ever know_?

"Thinking hard?" Kei said. I looked over at her. She was beautiful, but far from innocent. One look at those eyes, and it was clear that she had seen indescribable horrors.

"Yeah. Just… Remembering the war."

"Which one?" she said, and I smiled.

"The Belkan War, at the moment. The man I was talking to over the radio yesterday… It was Larry Foulke. He was my wingman for more than half of the Belkan War. Then he left. Just flew off at the end of a mission, and we didn't hear from him for six months." I picked up the tea and held it in both hands, letting the heat seep into my cold flesh. "He turned out to be the boss character in that game. The war ended after I shot him down. Nine years later—that's six years ago—there was the war between Erusea and Usea. I fought for ISAF, the Usean Air Force. All those years, I'd thought Larry died that day, after I shot him down. Turns out he's still alive. And he's still a bad guy."

"I see," was all she said. I put the cup of tea to my lips and managed to swallow a bit of it. Then I put the cup down and closed my eyes.

I was tired. I couldn't see clearly anymore, could barely think. "I've got to go to sleep," I said quietly. I stood up and took a deep breath. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Nagase."

She didn't respond.

- - -

"Ah! It feels good to be up in the air after a day of loafing around on the ground." I smiled at her words.

Nagase was on my right wing in her F-16C, while I now flew my personal favourite plane, an SU-37 I'd been flying since the Belkan War. This plane had seen one of the seven Belkan nuclear attacks, and it had witnessed the destructions of Excalibur, Hresvelgr, V2, Stonehenge, Megalith, the Scinfaxi, the Hrimfaxi, the Arkbird, the control facility of the SOLG, and finally, the SOLG itself.

Both of our planes were fully armed, of course. In a way, we were only up in the air in hopes of eliciting some action from our unseen enemies.

"Yes, it certainly does." I pulled a few manoeuvres for the fun of it; nothing too extravagant, but enough to get the rush of speed that I had always loved when I flew.

"We've plenty of time," she said, "since it isn't as if we're attacking anything. Let's head west, across the ocean, to Cruik Fortress."

"We'll have to refuel along the way, and more than once."

"And? Like I said, we have time."

So we went. And I was right; we flew first to Eaglin and stopped at a military airport there to refuel, then continued on southwest to Sand Island. Ah, more memories, and these ones were fresh—only a few months old. But we refuelled and continued our journey across the Ceres Ocean. We were passing over a cloudless Glubina when I noticed something strange. There were dark clouds on the horizon before us, and as I stared, I realized that the clouds blanketed the horizon all around us. I figured I was getting tired, because I was beginning to hear things: faint whisperings. Nothing discernable, but still, it sounded like voices.

"Nagase," I said.

"Yes?"

"Look at the horizon. There's a storm brewing."

"I see it."

"Do you know where we are?"

"Glubina. We're practically on top of the POW camp we liberated last November."

The clouds were encroaching upon us, and fast. Impossibly fast. They would be above us in a matter of moments.

"If we can just get through this…" I thought it had been Nagase, faintly over the radio, but she said nothing else. I attributed it to my imagination and forgot about it.

I took in a deep breath. "This is where you were shot down, Nagase."

The clouds all around had finally come together and blanketed the area. Rain flew in all directions, and the wind was fierce. Just moments ago, the sky had been perfectly clear. My hands were stiff on the flight stick.

"We're taking the POWs outside. Can you see their smiling faces?" It had been weak and there was a lot of static, but I'd definitely heard it. And I remembered hearing that voice before. More whispers, but it was difficult to pluck individual voices out of the noise.

"Nagase—" I was cut off by her voice, but she wasn't talking to me.

"Is Captain Bartlett there? Check for a Captain Bartlett." Nagase's voice. I saw her plane pull away from me and head toward where the POW camp had been.

"Hmm, no… nobody named Bartlett here. Hey, what about you?" I knew that voice. It belonged to the pilot of a Sea Goblin helicopter. And I'd heard those exact words a month and a half ago.

"Nope, not here. None of the other POWs ever heard of him, either."

Nagase's voice again, still faint and difficult to hear properly: "But that can't… look, just check for me one more time!"

Then Nagase's plane jerked and pulled up sharply.

"…Missile alert!" I heard her say clearly, with barely any static. I swung around, but there was nothing I could do except watch as, in a cold re-enactment of what had happened last November, a missile erupted as if from nowhere and, despite her efforts to evade it, Nagase was shot down. I saw the brief flare of fabric as a parachute opened, but I knew I couldn't do anything. That, however, is where the resemblance to Operation: Backhaul ended.

"…It's winding down, Blaze. Soon there will be nothing left." It was Larry's voice over the radio again.

"What's happening?" I demanded. "You did this, somehow!"

"_I_ didn't do this. You're doing it, Blaze. You're doing all of it."

I snarled. Larry could go to hell, for all I cared. Nagase was in danger and…

…and this was all insane. This was _exactly_ what had happened here last November, after we'd liberated the POW camp. Chopper and Archer weren't here now, but…

I heard voices again. I listened carefully and was able to pick out a few individual voices louder than the rest. It was Chopper and Archer. They were frustrated that they couldn't help Nagase until weather conditions improved. The Sea Goblin team agreed. But none of them were anywhere in sight.

"I've got to get back to Valais," I muttered, and turned around to head in that direction. "Something's gone horribly wrong."

"If you think it'll help," Larry chuckled. His voice was frighteningly clear over the radio. "If you think it will really help," he said, "you go ahead and fly wherever you please. It won't be long now. It won't be very long at all…"

"Nagase," I said over the radio. There was a burst of static, but she didn't respond. "Nagase!"

"She's dead," Larry said.

"But that's not—Look, when we were here before, during Operation: Backhaul, on November 17th of last year, she was shot down by an enemy SAM and survived the crash. Damn it, we rescued her the next day! This is exactly the same, so—"

"It isn't the same, Blaze. It isn't the same at all! You had three wingmen, and the Sea Goblin choppers were here, and—"

"Yes, but it's still the same. The voices, and the angle of the missile, it's all the same."

"Blaze, the SAM didn't kill her. You did."

"I—That doesn't make any sense, Larry. And why are _you_ calling me Blaze?"

"It will make perfect sense soon. Just try to go back to Valais, Blaze. Just try. Fly as fast as you can. I want to see how far you actually get before you are completely consumed."

He began to laugh again. I wheeled my plane around eastward. I pushed the throttle up to the maximum and leant back in my seat, letting my eyes drift shut.

There was an airfield in Dresdene, not too far southeast of here, on the way back to Valais. I would stop there and refuel, maybe rest a bit, and then head on back to Valais, refuelling at the same stops as before—Sand Island and Eaglin.

I didn't know it yet, but I was never to reach Dresdene. My nightmare would end soon, but as of yet, it was only beginning. First, I had to revisit the war of six years ago.


	3. Chapter 3

Ace Combat: Restitution

An Ace Combat (fanfic/short story) brought on by

playing Ace Combat 5 and Ace Combat Zero until

six o' clock in the morning for three days in a row

(Written by The Great and Powerful Keski)

- - -

Part Three

- - -

_All held the finite and infinite as unrelated._

_None could foresee that the history of the two would become one._

- - -

I was flying to Dresdene from Glubina, but I hadn't been flying for fifteen minutes when the landscape beneath me began to change. Dramatically. The ground grew greener and greener and I saw a deep and wide ravine beneath me. Instinctively, I knew exactly where I was, although I knew it wasn't possible—There was an ocean between me and _that_ place.

And the ghost voices returned. This time they were louder, clearer than before. I didn't have to struggle to understand the loudest ones.

"Attention all aircraft, incoming from Stonehenge confirmed on radar. Drop below two thousand feet and head south to exit combat area."

"Two thousand feet? What do they expect us to do? Go underground?"

"Head toward the ravine and terrain mask. Use the crevasses. Get low and stay low."

"What are you talking about! It's suicide to fly into that ravine."

Yes, I was definitely back in Faith Park. That is, I was back in Faith Park on the 16th of December, 2004—Operation: Blackout. I didn't see any planes other than my own, but I heard everything clearly.

"This isn't possible," I found myself murmuring.

"What are you waiting for, Mobius 1?" Larry again. "You'd better dive. It might not be possible, but it's happening anyway, and if you're not below two thousand feet when that thing hits…"

"Yes, I know. I've done this before," I snapped. He just laughed.

I angled my plane southward and dove for the ravine.

"Four rounds," the AWACS voice said, "ETA in fifteen seconds."

I was into the ravine with more than enough time to spare.

"Thanks for the save," someone said.

Then AWACS began counting down. "Five, four, three, two, one, impact!" and I saw the shots overhead. They exploded, and the entire sky began to shimmer and shift in a bizarre manner, and the radio went wild.

"Rapier 4 was hit!"

"Omega 1 crashed!"

"Come in Vapor 9!"

"Viper 11 and Omega 5 are gone too!"

"Vapor 11 crashed!"

I remembered this… I'd heard _all_ of it before… I'd never thought I would have to go through a hell like this again.

"Another wave from Stonehenge detected," AWACS reported. "Ten seconds to impact."

"Stay down in the ravine," someone else shouted.

"Five, four, three, two, one, impact!" and again the sky lit up, and again the screams on the radio… The screams, God, the screams wouldn't _stop_… They were _dying_, and I couldn't do anything.

"Halo 10 was shot down!"

"Omega 11 crashed!"

"Vapor 3 crashed!"

"Dammit, how many did we lose?"

"Stay focused and maintain aircraft control."

"Several aircraft didn't make it!"

"Evade, evade!"

"Rapier 8 crashed!"

"Rapier 4's gone," someone was crying.

My hands were shaking on the flight stick. I had to move faster, I suddenly realized. It would end once I got out of this area. Back then, it had ended as soon as I'd gotten out… This onslaught of killing would stop if I could just…

"They're throwing everything at us."

"No use! I can't get away!"

"Halo 7 is incommunicado."

I pushed the throttle up to the maximum and curved effortlessly around the bends in the ravine, checking my radar search screen every few seconds. Soon, and against all probability, I saw a white dotted line on the radar cut across where my path would take me. It was the return line. It was the 'end' of this. I willed my plane to go faster, faster, _faster,_ and just as the sky began to shimmer and shift with another attack, I crossed over the line, and everything went still. Literally—the Stonehenge projectiles froze and vanished from the sky, the radio went _silent_, and everything went back to the way it had been before the AWACS voice had ever announced the Stonehenge attacks.

"You're good," the radio chirped in Larry's crystal-clear voice, so unlike the voices of the pilots screaming for help as Stonehenge butchered them. I pulled up smoothly and left the chasm. "I'm impressed with the way you screamed through that ravine. Keep flying, Mobius 1! You're almost done."

"Done?"

"I suppose I should say _it_ is almost done."

"_What_ is almost done, Larry?"

"You wouldn't understand if I told you. Well, maybe you would, but even so, you wouldn't believe it."

I cursed and punched the console in front of me. Then I slammed myself back into the seat and closed my eyes. I had to at least _try_ and stay calm. I hadn't become a legend—multiple times—by panicking in desperate situations.

Ghosts.

All around me, I was seeing shimmering, translucent planes of all models, as clear as glass.

"First voices, now ghost planes," I murmured. "I really am going crazy."

"You aren't going crazy," Larry said. "Not really. It's more complicated than that. But you're free to think that you're insane if you like."

The landscape of Faith Park suddenly fell away with a long strip of beach. I had a sinking feeling I was returning to Operation: Judgement Day. I saw the ghost planes all around me, and I knew I was right. It was September 26, 2005, and I knew I was about to destroy Megalith.

The voices faded, then swelled, washing over me like an ocean of apparitions.

"SkyEye here. All Mobius aircraft report in." The voice of the AWACS craft. And then…

"Mobius 2 on standby."

"Mobius 3 through 7 on standby."

"Mobius 8 on standby."

"Preparations are complete, ready for battle," the AWACS said. "All aircraft, follow Mobius 1!"

And all of the ghost planes fell into formation behind me. As time progressed, they were getting more and more solid. I could still see through them. They were smoky, strange looking, but beautiful, in a way.

It was cloudy, and we were now over an ocean. There was a small group of islands before us.

Megalith, I knew, rested on the largest of those islands. I pushed the throttle up and waited for the Yellows to appear…

"I see them!" The bad guys were speaking now. "Got a tally ho on the bandits."

"You're not going to believe this, Jean-Louis. All of them have ribbon insignias!"

"Mobius 1, engage." The AWACS was talking to _me_.

It was the first time one of these ghosts had actually addressed me, but I wasn't about to waste my time with these planes. If I remembered correctly, there was a ground force inside the facility already, trying to open the heat vents to the Megalith missile's bay so that I could get out after I flew in. They needed me to blow up three generators, and then I had to destroy the missile itself. And then it would be over, and I could find out what was going to happen next.

I flew low down to the water as I approached the tunnel leading to the generator on the left.

"Mobius 1, bandit on your tail. Turn hard!"

I didn't bother. If the Yellow launched a missile, I'd wheel around and give him what-for, but unless necessary, I wasn't going to spare any concentration—or missiles—for anything but Megalith.

"Only Erusian fighters should be flying this airspace."

"Sweep them from our skies!"

And the ground force began to speak:

"Bravo 1 here. All teams are on the 13th floor. But we can't get the sub control room to open. It's an electronic lock. We'll hold the position until the generators are destroyed. So hurry up!"

I was in the tunnel. The sounds of battle were coming from what I knew to be the ground force's radios.

"Here they come. Don't let the enemy get through panel K."

"Altman, use your hand grenades!"

"Dammit! They've got a flamethrower!"

"Shoot! Shoot! Over by the stairs!"

There it was, the generator, to my left, just as before. I released a single missile and saw the generator explode. I pulled the throttle down and pulled up sharply to stay within the contours of the tunnel, then angled the nose down again toward the exit. I was once again in open skies. It took me a few moments to get to the second tunnel, but once in, it took only an instant for me to get to the end, destroy the generator resting in the centre of the tunnel, and fly through the empty space where the second generator had once stood. The third and final generator was in a passage that ran perpendicular to the first two tunnels. As I pulled out of the second tunnel, I wrenched the plane around to the right, flew out to gain distance, then turned around and lined up to fly into the passage. It wasn't difficult to get through and destroy the last generator. After doing this, I wheeled around, and took a second to locate the final tunnel, which would lead to the missile itself. I flew in, blew up the missile, flew out of the opening entryway, and almost shouted as my plane began to shake violently. What had happened? Had something gone wrong? But I'd done it just the same as before!

The voices were once again silent, all of the ghost planes gone.

My plane stopped shaking. The warning alert was active, but there weren't any missiles, or _anything_ like that, inbound.

I heard a boom, as of distant thunder, but it lasted only an instant and was gone. A second later, an enormous ripple spread out across… everything. The ripple was invisible in itself. I saw it, though, in the clouds, and in the water—giant waves, more than twice the height of Megalith, erupted. Megalith was entirely submerged, then it resurfaced, only to be encompassed by another tidal wave of monstrous proportions. I actually had to fly a few thousand feet higher to avoid the water myself. The ripple faded, and another one came. I noticed that the water was gradually receding. The ocean itself was growing shallower, and each wave covered less and less of Megalith, until Megalith and its island stood out like a mountain in this ocean. Another ripple extended from the distance. The water was receding faster. Megalith's mountain stood above everything as a huge monument, and then the water was gone. I flew over a dry, desolate plain, like a desert.

Then Megalith exploded with a force that pushed my plane away and almost sent me spinning out of control. I managed to stabilize the plane, though, just in time to see huge pieces of the Megalith falling to the earth below. No traces of it remained on the mountain, but I watched as the massive chunks of the thing smashed into the ground below and were obliterated. The ground was now changing its form. Parts of it were rising up in mounds, and Megalith's mountain was now sinking, growing smaller by the second. My plane's altimeter was going wild, fluctuating between several hundred feet, to several thousand, and back again.

Another ripple erupted. The movement of the clouds told me that this one was much stronger before it hit, but I was still caught unawares—my plane did start to spin when the force hit me, but I was rolling sideways, and was just barely able to level the plane off before it was too late. The effect of the ripple on the ground below, however, was even greater than it had been on my SU-37. The shifting of the land was intensely accelerated, and a mountain range had begun to spring up beneath me. Megalith's mountain was part of it. And with a jolt, I realized where I was:

This was B7R.


	4. Chapter 4

-1Ace Combat: Restitution

An Ace Combat (fanfic/short story) brought on by

playing Ace Combat 5 and Ace Combat Zero until

six o' clock in the morning for three days in a row

(Written by The Great and Powerful Keski)

- - -

Part Four

- - -

_Without beginning or end, the ring stretches into the infinite._

- - -

What mission was I about to repeat now? Choker One? Battle Axe? Thunderbolt? How would I shoot down the ghost planes? Would my missiles go through them? On the other hand, would the ghost planes be solid now, after all this time of collecting and solidifying, as it seemed they had been doing thus far?

"You're here," Larry said. There was no radio static. His voice was as clear as if I were standing before him as he spoke. "Took you long enough."

"I'll ask you once more," I said in a low voice. "What is going on, Larry?"

"You'll know very soon, very soon now. Just a few more moments to put the finishing touches on B7R and the stage will be set."

"The stage will be set for _what_?"

Larry laughed. For the first time, his voice truly sounded _evil._ "It will be set for restitution, Cipher."

A thunderous rumble in the distance. Another ripple? No… Something else. It was in front of me, very far afield. There was no physical manifestation of whatever had made the noise, but within moments, my radar registered a single blip directly in front of me, possibly seven, eight miles. I squinted, and in seconds, I could make out a single plane. I knew instantly who it would be. As it approached, I squinted to try to recognize it.

I was right—Pixy.

"So, have you found a reason to fight yet?" he said in that frighteningly clear, wickedly sinister voice. "Buddy."

Missile alert—he'd launched two missiles. I twisted my plane out of the way and took off in pursuit of him. I saw that he was flying the ADFX-02 Morgan in which I'd shot him down over the Avalon Dam fifteen years ago.

"This time it's not about borders!" he laughed. The lunatic was _enjoying_ this! "Let's go, Cipher! The game is almost over!" We were flying circles around each other, just as I had done in B7R earlier, when I had _thought_ I was fighting Larry. I dove straight down, and even before I levelled off, Larry was laughing.

"You aren't going to be able to use that trick to get the perfect shot at _me_," he said. "It worked on those goons before, but I'm more than just a goon, Cipher. You will have to _work_ to shoot _me_ down. Remember the V2? Remember what I did to PJ?"

"Bastard!" I shouted. "You have no right to speak of PJ!" I shot off a missile. It raced off into oblivion, easily avoided.

"You fired up?" he was laughing maniacally now as he quoted himself from years past. "Come shoot me down!"

My hands were again shaking on the flight stick, but I bit my lip—hard—and steadied myself. Blood trickled across my tongue, but I stared only at his plane as I tried desperately to get behind it, to line up a straight shot.

"You have one blessing," Larry said soberly, "and that is that _this_ time, I'm flying a more or less ordinary plane. Remember last time? How many missiles did I take before the thing went down? Twelve? Fifteen?" He began to chuckle. "One will do it this time, pal. After all—this time, I'm not the final boss."

"What? Then who is?" I found myself asking, though I knew he would give me some confusing, roundabout answer again.

"It's you, Cipher," he said, and I cursed under my breath. "Once I'm gone, you will become your own enemy. You'll have to overcome yourself—or die trying."

I shot off another doomed missile. "If you aren't going to give me a straight answer, then just shut up and _die_!" I hissed.

He just laughed slyly. "You and I are opposite sides of the same coin," he said quietly, and I bared my teeth in a silent snarl as, again, he quoted himself from fifteen years ago. "There may be a resemblance, but we never face the same direction."

Another missile. No luck. At least he hadn't gotten any missiles off at me.

"When we face each other," he was murmuring now, but I could hear him as if he were leaning in toward my ear, "we can finally see our true selves."

"All I see in you is a lunatic, and if you're trying to tell me that I'm crazy, then your job is done." I spoke, finally, with a bit of confidence, and more than a bit of conviction. "None of this could have happened to a sane person. I have already resigned myself to that fact. I am operating within the terms of my delusion. It's as if I'm playing a video game, Larry. You're just one mini-boss among many. I'm hoping I'll get to see the final boss real soon."

There it was, the perfect shot, just as always, at the perfect moment. This time, it was _me_ quoting _him_.

"This twisted game needs to be reset."

And off the missile went. It collided with the ADFX-02, and the plane went up in the most beautiful explosion I had ever seen. The plane itself—and presumably the body inside—was incinerated instantly. Spitefully, I pushed the throttle up and flew straight through the cloud of smoke left by the explosion.

I said nothing. I only levelled off my plane and flew along the mountain range of B7R, waiting for, as Larry had said, the final boss.

And there they were. Three planes directly before me, at the edge of my radar. I pushed the throttle up. I would meet them halfway, and what would happen, would happen.

But I froze when they came closer and my HUD displayed their call signs.

Razgriz 1... Mobius 1... and Galm 1.

Mobius 1 was flying an F/A-22A Raptor; Razgriz 1 was flying an F-14D Super Tomcat; and Galm 1 was flying an F-15C Eagle.

"What's up, Ace?" I heard my own voice over the radio. It wasn't as clear as Larry's. It sounded as if it had come over an ordinary radio, which was a relief. At least _something_ was happening normally.

"Who…?"

"You know exactly who we are," my voice said again. I could not tell which one was speaking. They continued.

"Larry told you that you would become your own enemy."

"You didn't think he meant it literally," one of them snickered.

"We call ourselves Ace Squadron. Flattering, isn't it? To have a squadron named after you. Isn't that right, Ace?"

Ace…? It wasn't really my name, but…

"Enough talk," one said. "Let's go."

Missile alert, as soon as he'd finished speaking. I pushed the nose down toward the ground to avoid the missile.

I decided to target Mobius 1 first, though I did not know if I would be able to kill him. It did not turn out to be that difficult, though, to line him up in my sights and get a single missile off at him. It collided, he exploded, and then there were two.

I went after Razgriz 1 next. He was much more difficult, and by now, Galm 1 was constantly on my tail, shooting off missile after ill-aimed missile, but they kept me on edge. It took me nearly ten minutes of flying in circles around Galm 1 and Razgriz 1 before I was finally able to take down Razgriz 1. I looked out of the cockpit at Galm 1, who was soaring high above and giving me the courtesy of a brief rest—or perhaps he himself was taking a rest.

"All right, Demon Lord," I said. I had lost all fear of losing, after seeing how easily the first two had gone down. "It's almost over. What's going to happen next? I'm going to find out anyway. You may as well tell me."

"If you beat me," he said simply, "this will all be over. It will all end soon, one way or the other." And he dove. Two missiles came at me and I barely dodged the second. I wheeled up and around to face him. How many missiles did I have, anyway? After Megalith, Larry, and the first two Aces, when I checked, I had just over twenty left. Razgriz 1 had taken a lot of them. Hopefully I wouldn't be reduced to gunning down the Demon Lord.

Suddenly, his plane vanished completely.

"No," I said, my eyes widening. "No, no, no, no, no, _no_! That isn't fair!"

"You said you were operating within the rules of the game, Ace. Nobody ever said the game had to play by your rules."

"But I was so close! I could have gotten out of this!"

"And then what, Ace? Would you have gone back to your old life? Would you have waited for another war to erupt? Would you have once again become the hero of that war, under a new guise, a new moniker?"

"I… I don't know," I said, defeated.

"Your game is over, Ace. It's time to make way for a _new_ hero."

Another ripple, as before. This one sent my plane spinning wildly through the air. My neck snapped back and I screamed, and then my plane vanished, and I was hanging in the air, alone, above this phantom surrogate B7R. The sky was dark, the air cold.

"I never had a chance to get away," I whispered. "If I'd had more time to fight you…"

"You've been around too long, Ace. You've grown dead, empty inside. It's nothing to be ashamed of. A new Ace will be born, as you were, from the ashes of the old one. And when that Ace, too, dies inside, from his death with rise yet another Ace."

The voice—_my_ voice—was growing softer and softer, and I realized that it wasn't the light that was fading—it was my vision. I knew that _I_ was fading, and I screamed in pain and rage and swung my fists at the empty air as I hung there in the silent sky.

"Do not fight it, Ace. You will only make it more painful. You should try to relax. You will not ever have to witness another death. You will not ever have to kill another human being. You will not ever see another war. You will not ever see another pointless death. You will not ever see any more injustice. _Ever_."

I could barely hear the last word, but it echoed through what was left of my consciousness. I was weeping, I suddenly realized.

"Now," my voice echoed, "sleep…"

And then, there was nothing.

I opened my eyes.

"Welcome to the world, Ace. How are you feeling?"

I bared my teeth in a grin. "I'm feeling very well-rested."

"That's good, because you see, there is a war going on…"

- - -

End

- - -

In conclusion, I have just got to say thanks to everybody at Namco for creating this

absolutely phenomenal game, Ace Combat. Without it, I would get a lot more sleep.

…Is that a bad thing?

…Who cares?

Thanks for reading my short story!

Please review it, so that I can improve as a writer,

and continue to bring you more and better things to read!


End file.
